Sidestep a Centimetre
by Wind of the Dawn
Summary: Throwing a wrench into normality, Fate decides to observe an universe in which Sam is enamoured with something mysterious since childhood. Changing everything that happens, he must save the world with his previous and new allies. Ninja!Sam


Disclaimer: Transformers and any characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me. This story is not written or used in any commercial purposes.

Title: Sidestep a Centimetre

Chapter 1: Amuse Thyself

By: Wind of the Dawn

Warnings: Extreme acrobatics and dangerous stunts that may or may not be actually possible. Do not try this at home!

P.s : This is a story of epic guess who I am games. Just try and see who I'm referring too, especially the rivals.

* * *

><p>Who was Samuel Witwicky?<p>

In the universes that ran on the normal courses, he was the hero of mankind. The boy that saved the world three times from the various alien disasters that plagued it despite all odds. Together with Bumblebee, his (best) friend, Sam roamed the world (unintentionally) and continued disrupting Decepticon plots, hence sometimes igniting the extreme ire of Decepticon plotters. Undefeatable, though sometimes encountering a hitch here and there, they were well renowned. Famous in Autobot circles and infamously in Decepticon ones; never in human circles because Sam wanted a low profile thank you very much (not that he really succeeded).

So, what was Sam?

He was undefeatable. He was awesome. He was the bane of Decepticons. He was...

Physically weaker than all the other soldiers than ran around carrying heavy artillery when facing Decepticons.

Sure, he wasn't the scrawniest of the lot and was in fact faster and stronger than most average human, but really the key word here was 'average'. The members of N.E.S.T were all trained specifically to battle large metal aliens, to react quickly in the likely event of being stomped on. Hence, this meant extreme training that included members of the Autobots playing catch the human with them, weight lifting of alarming measures (their weapons were really really _heavy_), and constant exercises of spot-the-correct-alien-and-shoot-properly (the Autobots didn't appreciate being shot by their allies, especially when they were engaging in life and death matches with the enemy). Therefore, they weren't quite the definition of 'average'.

Sam couldn't wave large guns around at will (he did that to a harpoon though). He couldn't shoot _that_ accurately (Starscream denies that statement). He couldn't outrun the more agile mechs (Megatron was a very big contradiction against that). He couldn't... Fine, he could. But not that well.

Nevertheless, sometimes fate wondered whether anything could have changed if Sam was - ah, how should she put it - more not average (not that he wasn't already). What if he was more ... special?

It was a thought worth pursuing.

Hence, in another universe that started off the same as the original. Fate threw a subtle wrench into the flow of things, sat down, and decided to enjoy the show. With popcorn.

Wide brown eyes stared intensely into the screen. Sounds of blades clashing and the snick of wires flying around echoed around the enclosed area. Occasionally, a loud exclamation would be heard while the soft sound of delicate footwork glided across the space. The vibrant colours of the setting clashed fiercely with the darker colours of the moving figures. Sparks glowed from their weapons, highlighting the screen. It was _awesome_.

"_Sammy?" _He could hear his mom calling him but he really couldn't turn his eyes away from the screen. If he did, he would miss second's worth of action. Action that would change the entire flow of the thing.

"_Sammy?_" She was getting closer now, almost behind him, but Sam didn't want to answer her and risk his attention being diverted. Besides, if he did, she would probably drag him off somewhere else. It had been that action that took him to this store anyway. What was it called again? Right, it was 'Fate's wrench', and wasn't that a funny name? Normally he rued those shopping trips that his mom took him on, but today he didn't. O, he didn't. This was just that _awesome_.

"Sam, here you are. Why didn't you answer me?" The imposing figure of Judy Witwicky blocked his view of the television screen and Sam, suddenly feeling abashed, turned and faced his mother. "Sorry mom. I was watching the Tv." He mumbled softly.

Judy huffed at him and smiled. Wasn't he just so cute when he was mumbling? Cooing, she picked him up from the ground and twirled him around, laughing brightly. "Who's my cute little baby?" She asked.

"I'ma not a baby anymor'." A little boy with wide brown eyes and little chubby cheeks protested " I turn five this year!". "Of course you are." Judy soothed, aww he was pouting.

Sam sulked for a moment. He just _knew _that his mom was gushing inwardly about how... how... how cute he was! He wasn't supposed to be cute! He was supposed to be manly, like the cool person on Tv. Speaking of Tv... Looking around his mom, Sam tried to peer up at the screen. To his disappointment, the words 'To be continued' flashed crossed it. Apparently, it had ended when he was talking to his mom. He pouted more.

Lifting his arms to his mom for a hug, a rare occurrence, Sam was pulled into a warm embrace. He was still small and light enough for Judy to carry around, and how she relished that! If there was a chance for doing so, she always leaped upon it, enjoying the moments when she could cuddle her son close. Who wouldn't, her Sammy was just that cute! Looking down at her son, she smiled happily and Sam gave her a slight smile in response.

"Momma?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"Can I learn how to do that?"

Looking up at the television screen, Judy watched the ending credits of the movie(?) that just played finished, showing a dashing teenager standing elegantly in front of the sunset on a glowing silvery plain. Shaking his hair freely as he freed his hair from his weird mask, the teen smirked at the audience, showing the shapely contour of his lips and his striking face. Judy frowned.

"Sammy." Judy asked, confused "You want to learn how to pose nicely?". It was a bit too young for him to start charming ladies wasn't it?

Horrified, Sam glowered at his mom "No Momma! I wanna learn how to do that!" Pointing once again at the screen, Judy followed his sight and widened her eyes in understanding as she watched the rest of the credit. Nodding her head slightly, she considered the methods available of teaching Sam what he wanted. It wasn't that bad, and it certainly wouldn't harm Sam to try his hands in some activities during his spare time. Besides, from the way things were playing out on the screen above her, it wasn't _that_ different from some of the stuff she saw about that on Tv herself. Smiling at her son, she agreed to his request "Ok Sam, lets go sign you up for some classes shall we?". She was sure she saw some fliers at the front of the store that advertised such classes, weren't they lucky?

Sam nodded his head happily and skipped away with his mom with his hand clutched in hers. As he passed by the shopkeeper, a funny lady with a bunny and a puppy, she started laughing hysterically and Sam stared at her incomprehensively. It wasn't everyday you saw someone break down in the middle of a shop. Shrugging, mother and son walked out of the funny little shop, never noticing the laughing storekeeper disappearing along with her small friends into the air.

"Sammy, how often do you want your classes?" Tapping on her phone, Judy raised it to her ear, ready to ask for information about the classes she saw on the fliers outside the shop. The prices were very reasonable, and they seemed fun.

"As often as possible momma!" he replied with a chipper tone. He was so happy!

"Ok Sam." Heart melting under Sam's cuteness and his glowy personality, Judy started to converse with the person on the other side of the line. She didn't see anything wrong with this sport. Signing Sam up for three classes of gymnastics a week, Judy smiled accomplishedly, oblivious to the fact that she didn't manage to see what was really on the movie credits. Meanwhile, Sam? Sam smiled.

He was going to be a ninja!

**Time skip**

(Eleven years later)

A figure shifted silently on the roof, crouching down nimbly he placed his fingers lightly upon the roof tiles and flipped himself unto the tree next to the house. As graceful as a cat, the figure jumped down from the tall tree, landing quietly on his feet. Senses alert, he slinked across the front yard, unseen and unheard under the folds of the sky. Shadows blended onto the ground and he joined them smoothly. With soft steps, the figure nimbly stepped up to the door and kneeled down, spotting his prize. It was time.

As he was about to pick up his prize, someone beat him to it. Doors opening loudly, his arch nemesis glared at him heatedly. NO. He was so close! He couldn't lose now! Snatching his prize off the floor, the figure jumped into the air and back flipped. Landing a few meters away from his enemy, he snarled territorially. Victory was his!

But wait! The enemy was _smiling_! Why?

Alarmed, he flipped his prize open. _No_. _NO_ ! This was... This was ... This was yesterday's newspaper!

Groaning out loud, Samuel Witwicky dropped the papers and glared at his dad. The prick was gloating smugly, standing there and looking at him with a superior smile. Clenching his fist, he gritted his teeth. He had lost. Again.

Meanwhile, patting his tummy smugly while looking at his dejected progeny, Ron Witwicky smiled. He had won the battle again today, and would continue doing so in the future, just to take the satisfaction in being the first reader of the newspaper away from his son. Such was their intense battle over reading rights.

The clanging of pots distracted both males from their intense glare-down. Nose pricking up at the familiar smell of pancakes, cream, and freshly squeezed fruit juice, both males forgot their enmity and rushed into the house. Along the way, Sam smoothly scooped his dog, Mojo, up into his arms and chuckled as he licked his chin. Turning smoothly at the end of the corridor, he burst into the kitchen in a rush of air and sat down on a chair, grinning happily at the joyful visage of his always happy mother.

Judy Witwicky smiled indulgingly at the males of her family. Placing large plates of food in front of the two males and Mojo, she laughed at the sights of them gulping down their breakfast. Every day, after their little newspaper grabbing competition, both of them would be hungry, as though they had just ran a marathon (in Sam's defence, he had to scale down the house). Sitting down in front of her plate of food, Judy thought back fondly about her little Sammy when he started going for his gym lessons. Though a little confused at first, he had adapted to the strict regime of gymnastic practices and had flowered under the pressure. Within a few years, he had been able to start overcoming obstacles that average people couldn't. In fact, he had started scaling the house walls to enter his room, much to the alarm of their neighbours. Soon though, after bouts of increasingly insane stunts, they got use to the weird antics of the Witwicky family.

She was so proud of her little boy.

Stuffing the last piece of pancake into his mouth under the protest of his father while his mother gushed about seeing a cute yellow and black car with a bee hanging on its dashboard near the house a lot recently, Sam ignored table etiquette completely and vaulted over the table, rushing out of the kitchen area. Yelling a muffled goodbye to his parents and Mojo, he grabbed his school bag and ran out the front door. Sprinting along the footpath, he began his daily run to school.

_**Line Break**_

It was a surprisingly boring lesson.

Then again, since when did Sam ever enjoy the theoretical part of life? He much preferred action, thank you very much. Nevertheless, unlike some of his peers that were already drooling upon their desks, Sam kept his attention up and sharp while appearing to be a perfectly bored teenager on the outside. You never knew when titbits from these reports could help you.

_Lesson 1: Ninja's always pay attention_

Twirling his pen through fingers, Sam faked a yawn and peered at his classmates carefully as he rubbed his hands on his face. Details were a crucial part of his life, hence Sam made it his business to observe the flow of the school and its intriguing social hierarchy. One wrong move with one wrong person could make his very difficult. It was in his teachings to remain unseen and unheard. To be silent like the air and inconspicuous like the wall. Therefore, in order to do so, Sam pretended to be perfectly average. After all, it was harder to remember the normal kid sitting in the middle than remembering the really quiet one or the loud vibrant student.

"Sam Witwicky."

Hearing his name being called, Sam stood up and walked to the front. Along the way, one Trent DeMarco tried tripping him, only for him to fail as Sam neatly overstepped his subtle foot. Ignoring the quiet "Go Sam!" from the corner of his ears from his not-quite friend Miles, he flicked his things across the desk and pinned the genealogical report of his ancestor on the blackboard.

_Lesson 2: If attention is needed to be drawn to you, do so, but do not make yourself the target._

Smacking his hand loudly on the blackboard and pointing towards the gaudily decorated paper, Sam cleared his throat. Gesturing softly, he introduced his grandfather.

"So guys," He started "This is my ancestor, Archibald Witwicky (_avoid titles, it attracted attention, it was bad enough that his surname was already so unique_). He used to travel around the world. Once, he went to Antarctica and fell down a hole. The fall kind of addled with him, cause' he later kept on insisting that he saw giant men. Because of that, he ultimately got sent to an asylum. And that's was that."

The teacher scowled "Mr Witwicky, surely you have something more to share with us."

Cranking his innocent and bashful charm up to eleven, Sam gave him a grin and shook his ruefully "Sorry sir, no one really talks about him in the family. And nothings left from all the stuff he had, got pawned off."

_Lesson 3: Never give out too much information. If you need to, give half truths._

Glaring suspiciously, the teacher was seemingly debating against calling his family to verify his little claim. Unworried, Sam looked back at him in the eyes. What he said was the truth. Almost the truth. Seeing that his student was unworried about any information that he could dig up from calling his parents, the teacher sighed and relented. "I hope you know that you won't be getting a high mark for this right, Mr Witwicky?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Sam gave a regretful expression and grinned "Yes Sir.". It wouldn't be good to give an expression that was too remorseful, Trent would associate him with 'actually like studying' and then things would go bad, _fast_.

Nodding unhappily, the teacher continued on with his next student.

Seeing that there was nothing he needed to do, Sam looked out of the window briefly. Their classroom overshadowed the school court yard, giving Sam an unrivalled view of the streets and its movements. Glancing over the trees (no suspicious shadows) and onto the streets, Sam started to observe the cars and people travelling around. A mother was pushing a trolley down the street, and across from her a young man sat drinking coffee. In the cafe that Sam liked to frequent, a couple sat talking to each other; and outside a young lady talked on her phone. On the road, a rusty yellow car drove past, its black stripes appealing to Sam's eyes with its faded spots. Besides it, a Maita with a giggling driver drove slowly.

Wait a second. That car was passing by agai-

"Mr Witwicky, will you be joining us for this class?" An irate voice snapped him out of his observations. Flushing heavily (he hadn't been startled in a long time), Sam gazed at the teacher with wide embarrassed eyes. Aware that he had been caught ogling out of the window, Sam apologized hastily; ignoring Trent's sneer and Miles amused look. Behind him, the class laughed.

Oh god, he was never going to live this down.

Luckily, fate smiled upon him that day. The bell rung loudly just as Sam swore he was going to self combust. Packing his stuff with a practiced hand, he sped out of the class, ignoring the rest of the students. Walking straight out of the school, he aimed for the bus stops, aware of the stares that pierced into his head. He couldn't care less about them though, careful of them yes, but care? No.

He had better things to do anyway.

Waiting for the usual bus that would take him to his gymnastics lessons (he rather enjoyed them), Sam started bouncing on his feet. Slowly warming up - _Lesson 4: Always be prepared_ -, he started to calculate how much of his stamina and strength he could spare to use during his lesson today. He would have to be careful, he already made a fool of himself once, and he better not do it again by losing a spar pathetically in his other class.

Unable to help himself, Sam grinned widely. When he first started the classes his mom signed him up for, he had initially been confused. There were only wickedly cool moves that were taught. Sure he wanted to learn them, but where were the other stuff? The cool shadow blending techniques and the awesome sword dances? He wanted to be a ninja! So he had sulked. Just as he was about to give up though (he wouldn't quit gymnastics, it was so _cool_), the weird shopkeeper lady had walked into his class with her bunny and puppy (was it just him or the bunny look even more murderous than usual?) and had had a discussion with his teacher.

His teacher had looked positively mutinous for a while, but after some prodding had turned to have a considering look. The second day, his mom received a call from his teacher and soon after that, he was enrolled in another class. More precisely, Ninja arts.

Sam was ecstatic! He was really going to become a ninja! Awesome!

It was tough at first with all the balance, speed, power, stamina, and flexibility stuff. But after all the hard work? It was _so_ worth it. Now, he was a proud student ninja. Still a student, but a ninja. Of course, all good things came with bad sides. While fate decided to throw him his dream, she also decided to tag on a couple of nightmares.

More accurately, rivals.

Rivalry was a good thing sometimes. It encouraged growth in students and expanded their abilities through a constant match of I'm-Better-Than-You's, but the rivalry Sam had with two of his fellow students? Ho boy, their lessons had started to dedicate a space solely for their use after they started stepping on each others temper with dinosaur foots. The older students had joked that they would all start needing to insurance for 'rivalry brawls' after their little incidents.

Whatever. He would best them.

Hearing a honk, Sam looked up frowning. That sounded nothing like the bus. Seeing the familiar figure of his father and his car however, he blanched. He _wouldn't_...

"Come on Sam. Time to get your first car!" O, he _would_.

Grimacing slightly, Sam grabbed his bag and dropped it in the car. It usually wasn't worth it to argue with his dad. When he wanted something, he got it; that or start a snatching war (the newspaper reading rights was something Sam was determined to win). Still, that didn't mean that he couldn't try.

"Dad" Sam protested "I don't want a car." A car would attract attention.

"Now, Sam." His father replied in an amused tone "Normally, 'average' students would jump at the chance at getting a car."

Sam really hated his mask sometimes. "But dad, 'average' students usually need to plead with their parents to get them a car, or work like mad for one."

"And since when were we average?" Whistling happily, Ron cranked the radio up and drove merrily to the car dealer. In another universe, Sam would have needed a good deal of A's to get his car. But in this? Ron decided that he really wanted his son to have a car so they could actually have a normal topic to relate with each other. Newspaper snatching matches weren't exactly normal, and the intense looks that Sam gave the Tv when they were watching sports was, plainly speaking, very creepy.

Switching the gear, Ron drove him and his offspring into a used car lot.

(Somewhere else, a certain shopkeeper laughed hysterically again)

Apparently, even in different universes Sam would still end up there.

Looking at the run down cars (was that a hot pink one he saw in the distance?), Sam groaned. This wasn't exactly his definition of 'average'. Stuff keeping it a secret that he had a car, he could just imagine the look on his rival's faces already, they always knew, or would know eventually. (_Sam was already considering the damage control_)

_Lesson 5: Already consider a different option_

Turning around to face the salesman that had tried to surprise from behind, Sam moped. His first car in this manner, the horror.

"Well then lads. What can I do for you today?" the man asked cheerfully, rubbing his hand together. Before Ron could answer though, Sam cut in and answered " I'm here -he glared at his father- to get a car, Mr Bolivia". For one moment, Bobby Bolivia looked shocked that the sulky teenager had known his name, when Sam pointed to his nametag though he relaxed and grinned lazily. "Well, you've come just to the right place."

Slinging his arm over Sam's shoulder, Bobby insisted that they all call him 'Uncle Bobby' and had then proceeded to educate them all about the mystical bond between man and machine. While Ron nodded his head eagerly at 'Uncle Bobby's' lecture, Sam was too busy glaring at the clown in the distance and staring around. Walking down the aisle of dirty cars, he glanced at them, unimpressed. Then suddenly, a subtle shift from his left.

Instantly alarmed, Sam shifted carefully. Peeking out from underneath his bangs, he took in the sights of a row of cars with faded paint and rusty bumpers. Nothing seemed out of line, but he knew better than to assume that.

Cursing the fact that he had left his pepper gas at home (A gift from his mom to Sam's horror and Ron's amusement) along a variety of his gear, Sam reached into his pocket, searching for his ... his ... _Where were his wires? _Searching through his pockets frantically, Sam reached in deep and hoped desperately that his wires were there. He _never_ took them out! So how could they disappear? They would never abandon him like this! Unless ... Unless ... Dread dawned on Sam.

His mother had obviously washed his clothes again.

Grasping his face between his hands, Sam despaired. There was a reason why he preferred to wash his own clothes. There was just so much stuff in them that if he ever needed them and they were gone, he was screwed. Switching over to Plan B, Sam walked to Bobby and his father. Grasping his dad by his arm, he grimaced horribly.

"Dad. I really really need the bathroom." he stage whispered.

There was an awkward silence. Ron stared at Sam and Bobby coughed uncomfortably in the back. Apparently, his ploy wasn't going to work. Now having an internal meltdown, Sam grasped his father on _both_ arm. "Dad, _please_. I really need the toilet!". Maybe his acting was just that good, because Ron suddenly turned pale and stepped backwards.

"Whoa there son. You don't need to act like _this_ if you don't want a car!" He exclaimed loudly, conveniently forgetting that Bobby was behind them, and if his looks were correct now more determined than ever to get this sale done before his prey escaped, claiming toilet pains. Sam swore it was a conspiracy.

Latching onto Sam, Bobby dragged Sam over to the very area he was trying to avoid. Ignoring his protests of his very real stomach pain, Bobby pushed Sam over to a red car and grinned forcefully at him. Clapping his palm upon Sam's shoulders, he started to persuade Sam on the wonders of a red car. "So boy, this car. This beautiful car. I'll sell it to you for a special price, $6000!"

"No sir, sorry sir but I _really need to go to the bath_-"

Jumping in before his son could finish his pleas for the toilet, Ron smiled and asked Bobby for a cheaper car. Completing ignoring Sam now that he had his father's attention, Bobby started to lead Ron further down the aisle. Cursing under his breath softly, Sam no choice but to follow.

"See now. This car? The yellow and black? Completely classy I tell you. Absolutely drives the ladies wild!" Reluctantly looking at the car Bobby was gesturing about wildly, Sam frowned. Classy? More like ancient. The yellow paint on the car was peeling off, leaving red rust under it to endear it to its potential buyers. And while the blacks racing stripes were catchy, the fact that it was paired off with yellow was a big turn off for Sam. How was he supposed to be sneaky in a yellow and black rust bound car?

And what was this really annoying feeling bugging him anyway? It was really freaking him out, just like a scratch he couldn't quite reach. Tilting his head, Sam stared stared and stared. Looking on as his father tried the seats of the car and gushed about its steering wheels (seriously?), Sam tried to make sense of that _bugging annoying feeling_! Then suddenly, it clicked. That car was the car he saw on the road during his class. In fact, it was the one that would pass by the school on occasion!

Staring ridiculously at the vehicle, Sam peered at it closer. Surely it couldn't be _that_ one? After all, there were more than one run down Camaro in the country. What were the odds that its owner suddenly decided to sell it the same day his dad decided to get him a car anyway? Than again, the faded spots on its paint was pretty similar to the one he saw just then (Sam believed in keen observation skills, in fact he ate them for breakfast)... Moving closer to finger the faded paint, Sam was abruptly shoved into the car at his father's obvious pride at his son finally paying attention to vibrant objects that he could relate with. Spluttering indignantly, Sam glared at everything in general, then froze when he saw a bee hanging on the dashboard.

Suspicious Camaro with familiar faded paint he could handle. Just barely (Being a ninja meant that Sam was _very_ wary about anything that was remotely suspicious). Familiar yellow and black car with a bee hanging at its dashboard that his mother saw passing his house by often? Right. No way was he even considering buying this car.

Attempting to step out of the car as non-ruffled as he could over his recent discovery (_warning, warning, his mind rang, stalker car alert_), and highly convinced that there was a really suspicious someone hiding in the place _somewhere_, Sam was very distressed that find that for some reason the damn car _refused to open_.

Pounding at the window to get his father and Bobby's attention (from how his father was waving around Sam had a bad feeling that they were negotiating price), Sam peered out and called them "The car door's stuck". Bobby looked flustered for a moment as his father glowed smugly, then frowned and came closer to the Camaro. Tugging the door handle, he gave a brief look of surprise when the door really refused to budge. "Well now kid, guess you better climb out then."

Eager for any chance to escape, Sam swiftly took action before any of them could react. Lifting his hands up, he grasped the edge of the window and threw himself out of the car backwards, planning to do a back tumble upon landing, before Bobby could say anything. Unfortunately, at the same time the car door decided to swing open, sending Sam flying into the next car head first _hard_.

Collapsing against the ground, Sam moaned painfully. It wasn't his day today wasn't it? _Everything seems out to get me _He whined in his mind.

Furious over the suffering of his progeny over the negligent advice of the car dealer (never mind Sam was the one who eagerly leaped out), Ron stormed over. Pushing Bobby aside, he bent down and cradled his sons head gently. "Hey there, you ok son?" He asked softly.

Sam gave a soft laugh, he felt like laughing for some reason. And no. No, he wasn't ok. Unwilling to concern his father though, Sam cracked his eyes open and gave his dad a small smirk "As if that could have hurt me, old man"

Satisfied over his son's snarky answer, Ron turned to glare at Bobby. Helping his son up, he asked him "And you think this is worth five thousand with its crappy door and paint job?". Unsure of how to answer without risking a potentially violent situation, Bobby opened and closed his mouth. Taking pity on him, Sam tapped his dad's shoulders and pointed to a car as far away from the Camaro as possible.

"I like that one dad."

Clinging onto Sam's words like a lifeline, Bobby looked over and nodded his head quickly. "Now that one I can sell you for four thousand and two hundred.". Ron looked over and frowned, "Seems reasonable enough." he mumbled.

Relief poured through Sam like sweet water to a parching man. Leaping up, he grabbed his father and pushed him towards the dark blue car, ignoring his questioning glance at him. Anything to get away from the Camaro!

His happy hope bubble was quickly burst though. Like it was reluctant to lose a potential buyer to the other car (_a rival, Sam's mind supplied jokingly_), a piercing sound sounded out from the Camaro's speakers. Instantly, glass broke out from cars all around them, riddling the sky with deadly projectiles. Flinging his arms over his face to protect his eyes, Sam threw himself over his father on the ground. He wouldn't let his father get hurt if he could help it.

Waiting until the sound stopped, Sam peeked cautiously out. It was horrendous, there wasn't a car without an unshattered windscreen in the whole area. In fact, the only one that was unharmed was the ...

"Take it!" Turning in shock Sam stared at Bobby "Take it! Four thousand! No, Three thousand! Just take it out of here!"

"Taken!"

"What? Dad!" Looking at Ron, Sam tried to protest his rash decision. Alas, both grown men were already decided on the fate of the canary yellow Camaro.

**_Line Break_**

He swore that it was looking at him.

In fact, he was so sure of that that he was tempted to duck tape its headlights. He had a feeling that it wouldn't do much good though.

Feeling stupid glaring at the yellow Camaro seated on his lawn, Sam pondered what on earth he was supposed to do. As if the day couldn't get any worse after the purchase, Sam had received a mocking message from his rivals, accusing him of being lazy. Angry and tired, he tossed himself on his bed. Stretching his hand underneath his pillow, he took out a sleek short sword. Fingering the ruins carved into one side of the eccentric metal, Sam thought back upon its origins. The creepy lady from the shop that had the tendency to pop up at the most random moments ever had given it to him for a request. Apparently, she wanted him to go pawn off his grandfather's glasses on the internet for some reason. Naturally suspicious, he had checked through the history of said glasses, and had found nothing special. Thus, he had agreed cautiously to her request. Besides, the sword was _tough_ and so worth it!

_A tiny part of him squealed at the fact that it looked almost the same as the one the awesome ninja was using on the movie in the lady's shop._

Sighing uncomfortably, Sam placed it back under his pillow, a convenient place to reach subtly. After setting his traps up (yes, he had traps), he went into a restless sleep.

Only to wake up a few hours later to the surprisingly soft sound of a car pulling out of the front yard. Dropping from his bed silently, Sam creeped to his window and glanced through the curtains from the side.

Oh for gods sake, someone was car jacking his car.

Exasperated, Sam began to switch out of his clothes into his night gear, then stopped when he considered the benefits of just letting the car thief go. It would certainly solve some unwanted problems.

Then again, his dad would probably have a fit over the theft.

Surrendering to fate, Sam quickly donned his stuff, grabbed his short sword, and flicked the window open. Crouching on his window, he took off in a flying leap to the tree. Quickly catching a branch and sliding down the tree like a pole, he sprinted after the car, blending in with the shadows.

Careful to keep a certain distance away from the Camaro, Sam considered his options. Playing a game of guess-who's-in-the-car, he took a pick between a car thief, the previous owner of the car, and maybe the car was driving off by itself. Right. Ha ha. He was sleep addled alright.

(_Someone chortled again in the distance_)

Seeing the car driving into a junk yard nearly, Sam scaled the wall of a nearby building and decided to observe from there. He wasn't keen on going into the junk yard alone at night.

Watching the Camaro stop, Sam waited for the perpetrator of the theft step out. A quarter of an hour later though, he started to frown. What was up with the dude? He had been doing nothing for the past fifteen minutes. He couldn't be asleep ... could he? Cursing over the unfairness of it all, Sam sulked gloomily. Then his attention got perked when the lights in the car flickered on.

_The fuck? _Shifting closer, Sam leaned over to confirm what he saw. There was no one in the car.

_Impossible _He thought _I didn't even see anyone leave!_

If there was anything Sam prided himself on, it was his observation skills. He didn't miss stuff unless he was really distracted. As such ... Was the car really driving itself around?

Theories flew around Sam's mind as he inched backwards and scaled down the building. Having seen enough, he decided to get back before the car did. It didn't matter what the car really was doing anyway, it was a threat and he would get rid of it. Taking his phone out, Sam switched it on and called someone he swore he would never call.

"Hello? It's me. I need your help."

_**Line Break**_

Bright and early the next morning, Sam walked down the stairs past his sneaky father and snatched the newspaper away from the front of the door before he could get it. Ignoring the gaping look on his father's face (since when did Sam walk down the stairs like a normal person?), he sat down on the couch and awaited a much uninvited arrival.

Doorbell ringing a few minutes later, he ignored it and walked over to the kitchen window to open it. His eyebrows shot up into his eyebrows when he saw who it was outside. Though really reluctant now, he let the person climb in and took a seat on the kitchen table as the figure looked around his kitchen.

"I assume you rang the doorbell, then came here through climbing the neighbour's wall?" Sam had a feeling he was going to get told off again. The neighbours were increasing alarmed that all of Sam's ... acquaintances preferred to scale walls and roofs to meet him rather than just walking up to the front door.

"Yea. Your neighbours one scary lady man. Waved her baking pin when she saw me climb over."

Oh good grief, why of all neighbours did he choose her side of the wall. Sam would have to bring some cookies over to apologize later.

"Let's cut to the chase Lancaster, why are you here?"

Miles Lancaster grinned at his childhood friend. Fingering the side of his shirt that had an exceptionally large amount of _senbon_'s sown in, he leaned against the wall and waved his hand at Sam.

"Rival no.1 couldn't come today. Had somethin' real important to do, so I got called and took the short straw instead."

Glowering, Sam grudgingly accepted his reason for being here (he should have figured that something would go wrong). Though he wouldn't be able to work as well with Lancaster, it was better than being alone. Now, to see if he would trust him.

"So _Pirate_, how much do you trust me?"

"As far as I can throw you, _ninja-boy_."

Figures that Sam would want to taunt him from the start, but considering Lancaster started to taunt back as well it was a fair go. Still ... ah well, he'd deal with it if it got there.

"What do you know about the paranormal Lancaster." It was more of a statement than a question.

Eyebrow raised, Miles stared at Sam "Somethin' you wanna tell me there Sam?"

"Yes." Pulling a completely straight face, Sam replied Lancaster in a serious tone "I believe that my car is sentient."

Normally, people would have started eyeing you funny after you said that, but Miles was no normal person. Hips shifting to get a comfortable seat, he puckered his lips in thought and gestured for Sam to continue. Obeying him for once, Sam did so and told him everything that happened.

Done within a few minutes, Miles stared at the ceiling.

Sam shifted uncomfortably on his seat.

Tapping his fingers, Miles forehead scrunched up in thought. This was unusual. Most unusual. It wasn't good for anyone to face the unknown, and a sentient car was pretty weird as it was (Miles believed in more unusual stuff so he wasn't, per say, convinced that Sam was totally insane). Sam wanted to get rid of it. That would be hard. Considering that the car was alive, and seemingly very possessive (while Sam thought the car was mad, Miles thought otherwise when he heard of the aisle incidents), it would most likely boot Miles into the air and kidnap Sam at the same time if they tried to get rid of it. And wasn't that a happy thought.

Turning to look at Sam's haggard face, Miles considered his options. He wasn't obliged to help and could just leave Sam to his own problems (really, who bought sentient cars anyway). Besides, for some reason, Sam really _really_ disliked him. It would probably be the best option anyway. But as Miles continued to stare at Sam, much to the latter's discomfort, he was reminded of the short little kid who used to follow him around calling him "Mwiles" and smiling his large megawatt smile every time he saw him.

His heart melted. Tousling his ex-ex-friends hair and blocking out his less than polite remarks about it, Miles smiled "Sure Sammy boy, big brother Miles will help you take care of your problem."

And so they began to plot.

_**Line Break**_

_It was very concerning how the human boy had desisted in purchasing him._

_Though showing an interest in him for a moment, the Witwicky boy had suddenly developed a sudden aversion to him. For a moment, he had observed something akin to recognition in the boys eyes, but surely that was impossible. Bumblebee had never shown himself to the child before._

_When the boy had sat in his cabin, he was sure that he would have had him. But instead of purchasing him, he wanted out. Was his alt not appealing enough? Perhaps. But considering the fathers limits of purchase and the issues of stealth, Bumblebee had no choice but to adapt to the situation._

_He did not enjoy being in such as form either._

_He tried scaring the dealer into lowering prices by locking the doors then suddenly opening them, but instead of achieving that he had caused the child harm by throwing him into another vehicle when he suddenly flipped through the window._

_He was sorry. Perhaps when everything was over, he would have a chance to apologize. For now though, he had to get the boy to warm up to him._

_The boy had been so eager to get rid of him that he had no choice but to engage in desperate measures in the aisle, and that didn't do any good for their already poor first meeting. _

_At least in the end he still managed to get purchased by the family._

_Connections with the rest of the group had just been issued last cycle. It was scheduled for fourteen hours later, but as the boy had been so unnerving about him Bumblebee thought that it would probably be wise if Optimus Prime and the others were informed of his success as early as possible._

_Bumblebee had a bad feeling about something. _

* * *

><p>AN

Omggggggg So sleepy ... *sleeps*

Wakes up 8 hours later refreshed.

Well all ... Here's a new story courtesy of Plot Bunny,Wind and Dawn!

As you can see, I simply ignore the badgering of an interesting plot and must simply write it!

Reality puppy nips Wind hard, she has homework and MUST finish doing them!

Anyway (grimaces), as you can obviously tell, this is an AU with ninja!Sam. I really humoured this idea for a while and wanted to write a humour short piece, but after starting it just sort of evolved into this more dramatic version that will most likely have lots of diffs from the original, considering that Sam has ninja moves now and has well ... allies.

For those who are concerned that the weird shopkeeper lady will play a significant part of the plot (or be an oc), she won't. She just exists to chortle at Sam and his friends while eating popcorn, occasionally giving him something that would actually work on large metal aliens.

Seriously, what's the point of Sam learning and not being able to use his knowledge in more direct applications? Of course, he'll have moments to show off his sneakiness too...

As for the epic bromance between Bee and Sam... Keep in mind that Sam has grown up a bit more paranoid and critical in thinking, hence well you know... Omg car is assaulting us indirectly, wants to be bought, drives off alone, seemingly following family = threat!

Yeah, he probably wouldn't trust Bee that explicitly at first. But eventually ...

Authoress has no intention of denying their epic bromance. But first, trials must be passed. Mwa ha ha ha

If I insulted anyone with this fanfic, I apologize.

Please please please leave a review!

Wind really wants feedback to improve!

Cya all ~~

Wind of the Dawn out


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